The Twinkie Bet
by BlueBully
Summary: Logan can never get a break. Especially when Twinkies are involved. MM/M Tickle Fic


**Little something I wrote in between writing another story. :)**

**MM/M tickling. Warning for quite a few f-bombs. XD**

"No! No no no, stay back! I don't want any part o' this!" Logan growled uneasily as he backed away from two blue and furry individuals.  
"Oh come now, Wolverine. Kurt and I have made a wager for the last Twinkie and we intend to declare a winner," the big Beast grinned and continued to move towards him.  
"Ja, don't fight it, mein freund. Make it easy on yourself and hold still," Nightcrawler's tail swished devilishly behind him as Logan ran out of room and backed up into the wall. Shit. He still had his claws as his last defense and out they came while he put on his best dominant posture and growled more menacingly, hoping to dissuade them.  
"I swear if ya touch me I'll rip yer stinkin' guts out! Now back off!" It appeared to work as his two would-be assailants paused and seemed to rethink their intentions.  
"Hmm, I think he may be serious, Kurt," Hank looked at his accomplice who nodded in response.  
"You might be right, Hank." When it looked like they'd relented and the expressions of malevolence had disappeared from their faces Logan began to relax slightly.

"...But I'll take that chance!" Kurt declared as in that split second that Logan had let his guard down, the rug he was standing on was yanked out from under him. He flailed uselessly in the air as he crashed onto his back and his claws reflexively retracted back into his hands. Before he could come to his senses he felt a large hand grab a hold of his foot and yank him away from the wall.  
"HEY!" He yelped loudly, but couldn't stop Hank from mounting his prone form as he stared up into those sparkling spectacled eyes.  
"It is quite simple. We just want to see how long you will last until you say 'Uncle'. Once that happens I promise we shall leave you alone and allow you to return to that barbaric sports game you were watching." Logan was as stubborn as a mule so getting him to say that really took some work.  
"Don't worry, Logan. Part of the wager was that we wouldn't touch your feet," Kurt added helpfully as Logan rolled his eyes, though feeling slightly grateful as he'd been lounging around barefoot that day.

"Well that just makes everything so much fuckin' better, don't it?" Wolverine growled, knowing he was still more than ticklish in plenty of other areas and that was no secret. Kurt ignored that last comment as he pulled out a stop watch and looked down at Logan.  
"Ready?"  
"Do I really got a choice? Well in that case, no!" Logan grunted and tried to wiggle out from under Hank, who just grinned at his attempts to get free.  
"It was a rhetorical question. Start the clock, Kurt."  
"No! Just put the damn thing down, Kurt!"  
"Alright, Hank, the time...starts...NOW!" Hank's massive fingers began wriggling into his sides while Logan's eyes bulged out of his head and he clenched his jaw tightly. His own hands immediately began trying to push away Hank's as he squirmed underneath him, but the Beast outranked him in strength and weight and wasn't budging. Hank then grabbed both of Logan's arms in one hand and pinned them over his head as he began lightly scribbling his sharp nails over the feral's firm belly.

Feeling more helpless now Logan started to giggle uncontrollably and tried to roll away, but that just allowed Hank to additionally tweak around his hips and waist. To make it worse, Hank then slid his hand inside Logan's t-shirt and attacked the sensitive bare skin with his fuzzy fingers as Logan finally broke and burst into laughter.  
"Bwaahahahahhaa! Stohahahahop it! Lemme gohohohohohoo! I'll...I'll kihihihill yahaha fer thihihihiiis!"  
"Aww, no you won't. You loooooove us!" Kurt laughed as he watched Hank at work. The two blue mutants exchanged a grin as Logan laughed and struggled with all his might to get away from the torment. Logan hated being tickled, but somehow he always ended up in this position for one reason or another. Sure, sometimes he deserved it, but today he had just been minding his own business when he was confronted. Hank's hand remained inside his shirt and traveled up and down his sides, playfully squeezing his ribs and gently scratching underneath his arms; the latter making the poor man howl with laughter.

"Oh, he really likes that, doesn't he?" Hank chuckled, but moved down to focus on his belly once more as the Wolverine bucked and kicked wildly.  
"Ya aahaahaahaaassholes! Quit it! Thaahaat fuckin' tihihihickles!"  
"Tsk tsk, such language. I still didn't hear you say 'Uncle' though. Perhaps I should lend a hand. Or maybe even a tail," Kurt leaned in and seized Logan's ribcage; his fingers being smaller than Hank's and allowing him to get into the ticklish crevices between each rib. Logan laughed even harder; his face turning red while his body strained to get his arms free of the Beast's grip. He let out a girlish shriek as he felt Kurt's tail slide down his sleeve and try to bury itself into his armpit; his laughter now more high-pitched than usual.  
"EEEHEEheeheehahahaha! Stop! Stop! Ahahahahahahahahaa! Ehehenough alreheheady!" Logan howled as he tried to roll onto his side to guard his armpit, but Kurt's tail would easily slip out and go for the other, making it a never-ending battle.

"You know what you need to say," Kurt grinned and didn't let up.  
"Yes, Logan. Just say 'Uncle'," Hank added, still scratching over Logan's rigid stomach with brief, but squeal inducing pokes into his vulnerable navel.  
"Heeheehaahaahaahaah! No!"  
"Come on, say it!"  
"Never!"  
"Say it!"  
"Fuck you!" The tickling under his arms intensified once Kurt plunged into them with his three-fingered hands; his body reacting so violently that he almost managed to throw Hank off of him.  
"WAAHAHAHAHA! UNCLE! UNCLE!" Wolverine shouted as he finally gave in and they stopped as promised. He'd later say that he just wanted it to end so he could go back to watching his hockey match, but really he couldn't stand the tickling any longer. Having his armpits tickled was almost as bad as his feet.

Hank released Logan and climbed off of him as Kurt hit the button on his stop watch and looked at the reading with surprise on his face.  
"What? Only 8 minutes? Logan, you're really going downhill lately," Kurt teased while Logan sat up with a growl once he had stopped panting for air.  
"Yeah, well I ain't as young as I used to be. So who won yer stupid bet anyways?" Kurt got a look of sadness over his face as he lowered his head.  
"Hank won fair and square. I thought you'd at least last 20 minutes, but Hank didn't believe any more than 10. So go on and claim your prize, mein freund," Kurt nodded to Hank who looked like a kid in a candy store as he galloped off into the kitchen on all fours. Logan looked over at Kurt with a roll of his eyes at the mournful expression on his face.  
"It's just a Twinkie, bub." Kurt got a crazy look in his eye as he was about to go off on a long spiel about how it wasn't JUST a Twinkie, but at that moment Hank came back into the room.

"You know, Kurt. I've come to the conclusion that this Twinkie really belongs to you. Really I would not have won this gamble without your help so please, I hope you will accept it," Hank smiled as he handed the sponge cake over to Kurt who looked more than happy now as he gobbled it down before Hank could change his mind.  
"What?! Ya mean after all that ya put me through ya still gave it to 'im anyways?!" Logan fumed, not believing what just happened.  
"Of course! He rather deserved it, don't you think? Besides, while I was retrieving said Twinkie from the kitchen...," Hank pulled something out from behind his back with a triumphant grin, "I located another full box!"  
"Hallelujah!" Kurt instantly leaped for joy as Logan face palmed with a deep growl.  
"Ya gotta be kiddin' me. Well I hope ya both choke on 'em." He got up off the floor, straightening out his clothes as the two furry mutants began gorging on the snacks.

He lumbered around the room, looking for where he had left his boots and spotting them over by his favorite arm chair. With his luck his teammates would get down to the bottom of that box with one Twinkie left and make another bet at his expense again. This time his feet might not be so lucky. Or even worse, when there were officially no Twinkies left in the entire mansion they would elect him to get the shelves restocked asap. Naturally he would refuse and their persuasive techniques would again be used against him. He quickly pulled his boots on with that thought. Trying to relax and fully recover, he settled back into his chair and hit the pause on the television to resume the hockey game. He tried to keep his mind on the game, but found himself occasionally rubbing at his sides and stomach; the skin still tingling a little from the tickling. And it would stay that way for the next hour or so. That he knew from experience. He sighed before growling to himself with a shake of his head.  
"Fuckin' Twinkies."


End file.
